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𝐌𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

- Yeah, I'm mad at you And I know I fucked up, well damn look how you move -

Adonis Celts, the notorious monster who'd been rotting in prison for the past decade. Getting an interview with him just weeks before his release would be the story of a lifetime, and well worth the risk. With his hands cuffed and guards right outside the door, nothing could go wrong. Right? • • • "I've already explained I'm not afraid of you Mr. Celts. But it seems like you want me to be?" I retort. He leans forward in the chair, his face just a foot or two away from mine. The light flickers above us and it seems like a sign for me to shut the hell up. "Mmhm right. Well, maybe you have more nerve than sense then hm? Or you just don't scare as easily as the others." His jaw ticks slightly "But I can think of far better ways to get your heart racing. So no honey, fear is the last thing I want from a woman like you."

"ᴡᴀꜱꜱᴀᴍ ʙᴀʙʏ"

Micah and Maila love story.

She walks in like the epitome of black girl luxury, but pain follows her. She covers it with bust-down jewelry and white roses. He's quiet, but his presence is loud in itself. Everyone knows him, but she sees right past him. She's confident, but he's more confident. She's fierce, but he makes her cower. Passionate. SADITIFIED.